


The Importance of Giving in to Temptation

by sqbr



Series: May Hawke [4]
Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Community: swooping_is_bad, F/F, F/M, Fanfiction, Fluff, Humor, Multi, Rival Relationship, Seven Deadly Sins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-19
Updated: 2011-10-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 17:22:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/265975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sqbr/pseuds/sqbr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Sin" is a matter of perspective. Seven moments in the relationship of Fenris, May Hawke, and Isabela.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Greed

**Author's Note:**

> This started out life as [a response to the "Sloth" prompt for the swooping_is_bad "Seven Deadly Sins" challenge](http://swooping-is-bad.livejournal.com/1258975.html), but then I got _inspired_.
> 
> Is there such a thing as "dark fluff"? These characters are not always very nice people, is all I'm saying, for all that I'm inordinately fond of them.

The moon hung full in a clear sky, offering ample light through the open window facing the safe. Isabela’s hands moved slowly and with incredible precision, her expressive brown eyes focussed on the lock in front of her with a rare seriousness. She’d pulled back her hair with a bandana, but a few strands still fell to frame her face. Every now and then she would stop and change one weirdly twisted strip of metal for another, her long fingers gently twisting and shifting the picks.

Varric gave an impatient sigh. “Do you want me to have a go, Rivaini?”

“Hush,” whispered Isabela, without looking up. “It’s complicated.”

The safe had not been their original goal: they’d been hired to break in to this Lord Belmont’s house and steal some documents, and those had been sitting on his desk clear as day. But Isabela had gotten an acquisitive look in her eye when she’d seen the safe, and May had agreed to let her have a go at opening it. _In and out faster than a Chantry brother in a brothel_ she’d said, but it was taking a little longer than that. May was usually about as far from patient as it was possible to get, but there was something soothing about watching Isabela work. The moonlight glinted off the massive collar around her neck and May wondered what she’d look like without it on. When she’d met Isabela a few weeks ago May had thought her attractive enough in an obvious sort of way, but in this light she was transfixing.

“That’s a good sign, isn’t it?” said May. “Shows he cares about what’s in it.”

“You’d be surprised,” said Isabela.

Varric gave a grim smile of agreement, then started rifling through the remaining papers on Lord Belmont’s desk. “The amount of junk people keep in locked boxes is staggering. It’s like they’re _trying_ to disappoint me.” Not finding any satisfaction on the desk, he started poking through the objects displayed on a nearby shelf. There was so much junk in this room! May wondered if they should destroy some of it, make it harder to tell what had been stolen. Plus destroying things was fun.

“One time, I spent three days working out how to break into a chest I’d found on a captured ship,” mused Isabela. “It was _huge_ , all covered in detailed carving and gold leaf. And you know what was in it?”

“What?”

Isabela looked up and grinned at May.

“ _Socks_!” When May gave a muffled laugh Isabela’s grin widened. “They weren’t even very _nice_ socks! I eventually traded them to another ship for some rope. Got a nice pile of silvers for the chest, though, so the story still has a happy ending.” She was looking back at the lock again, but a smile still hung on her lips.

“ _This_ story won’t have a happy ending if you don’t hurry up,” said Varric. “They’re bound to notice the guards Hawke…subdued any moment now, and I’d really rather not be here when they do.” He gave a small grimace.

Ug. For someone so connected to the underworld Varric could be incredibly squeamish about killing people. So she’d been a bit creative, so what. May was glad she’d decided not to bring along Carver or Aveline, they would have been irritating enough about the the fact that they were _stealing_. By contrast Isabela was refreshingly free of moral qualms (except possibly about slavery, and she could live with that) May was finding herself increasingly glad that the pirate woman had decided to stick around.

May made a shooshing motion at Varric. “Don’t rush her,” she said. “This angle gives me a fantastic view down her bodice.”

Isabela looked up at May then down to her chest. She smiled broadly and shifted to give May a better view, then got back to work.

“You never stare at my chest when _I’m_ unpicking locks,” said Varric.

“I can start if you like,” said May.

Before Varric could reply he was interrupted by a small click and then the sound of Isabela letting out a quiet _Yes!_ She opened the box and her expression shifted from joy to disappointment. “What on earth is that?” she said.

“Just grab it and let’s get out of here!” said Varric.  


* * *

As much as May enjoyed having an excuse to fight people, it was always satisfying to get to the “being paid” part of a job. Varric had offered his quarters as a safe place to count out coin without encountering any thieves (well, any _other_ thieves) and soon the three of them were happily dividing up their take and calling out to the passing staff for drinks.

“That worked out pretty satisfactorily,” said Isabela. “Overall. Let me know if you need me for any other jobs like that, I could always use the coin.”

“Still saving for that ship, Rivaini?” asked Varric.

“In theory,” she replied.

May considered the possibilities. “I got a letter today with a job,” she said. “Someone wants to meet me in Lowtown at night to discuss a business proposition. It sounds _incredibly_ shady.”

“Oooh, I like shady,” said Isabela. “Sign me up.”

“And maybe if you’re lucky you’ll find another rotten peg leg,” said Varric with a grin.

“Well,” she said, “I am a pirate. If I’m _really_ lucky I’ll get a matching set.”


	2. Wrath

Merrill turned to Carver and tried to make herself heard over the sound of fire raining from the sky. “Does your sister have some sort of…deep childhood trauma involving bandits? She seems to be _really_ angry at them.”

Hawke stood a few metres away, her eyes bright with excitement, casting yet another wave of fire on the the marauders who’d tried to rob them on the path to Sundermount. They hadn’t been any threat for some time, and the rest of the party was standing around awkwardly waiting for her to stop (except Isabela, who’d gotten bored at some point and wandered off looking for loot)

“No, that’s just her,” he said. “Hey May,” he shouted. “Merrill here wants to know if you were born like this, or if something happened later to make you so crazy.”

“ _You_ were born,” she shouted back over the continuing explosions. “It was pretty traumatic, especially when mother wouldn’t let me drown you like the dog you are.”

“Yeah, well… she wouldn’t let _me_ hand you in to the Templars, apostate!” His eyes darted towards Merril. “Um. Not that I would have _actually_ handed her to the Templars,” he said quickly. “Or that I think that _all_ apostates should…um…” He trailed off, muttering. “I’m just saying. She’s a public menace.” Carver was a sweet boy, deep down, but he really needed to _think_ before he spoke.

Fenris scowled at them both. “So you would castigate your sister for simply following her father’s unfortunate example, but not this _blood mage_?”

“May’s done blood magic too,” said Carver petulantly. “I’ve seen it.”

Fenris stared at him aghast. “Blood magic?” he asked.

“And what’s wrong with that?” asked Merril. “Just because some humans made up a bunch of silly rules about magic doesn’t mean we all have to follow them.”

Fenris turned to Merril, furious. “This is _your_ influence,” he seethed. Good heavens but he had an angry looking face! His eyes were all glinty and his mouth had gone all the way down in the corners.

“She did ask me for some advice,” said Merril, unperturbed. “But Hawke is an adult and she can make her own decisions.” For all that Fenris was an intimidating warrior, he’d have to try a bit harder than that to be scarier than the Keeper. Now _there_ was someone who could give a disapproving look. “As long as she’s careful and sensible, I don’t see why…” Carver and Fenris gave mutual expressions of disbelief at the word _sensible_ being applied to Hawke. Truth be told, Merril hadn’t been very enthusiastic when Hawke had asked for her advice, but better to help her out than have her go off and become an abomination by accident because she didn’t know what she was doing. Right? ‘…I don’t see why you’re making such a fuss.”

“I tire of you and your endless justifications,” said Fenris, and looked away, scowling.

The sounds of destruction had stopped, and Merril could hear the wind whistling through the trees of the forest. Hawke’s laughter broke the awkward silence like a friendly slap to the face. Looking across the clearing, Merril could see that Isabela had returned from her explorations and was holding up a very _oddly_ shaped staff to show it to Hawke.

“Look at what I found!” said Isabela, as they approached. “Isn’t it wonderfully obscene?” Obscene? Merril looked at it again. What so obscene about… _ohhh_. Merrill felt herself blushing. She’d never seen any staffs like _that_ in any of the shops! Isabela poked at a knobbly part of the staff with her finger. “Do you think this bit adds to the magic?” she asked Hawke. “It could be like a fertility ritual but…backwards.”

“I’ll have to use it and find out,” said Hawke. She took the staff and hefted it upwards, testing the weight. “What do you think, Fenris. Is it me?”

He didn’t reply, but gave Hawke a look of intense hostility. She raised her eyebrows at him and then rolled her eyes.

“What have I done this time?” she asked.

“Is it true you’ve been practicing blood magic?” he asked.

Hawke shrugged, looking bored. “Once or twice. It can be useful when other sorts of spells won’t do the trick.”

“ _Useful_ ,” he shouted. “How can you…”

“You know, I’m a blood mage too,” interrupted Isabela.

“What?” snapped Fenris.

“I’m a blood mage!” she repeated. “Or at least… I’ve stabbed an awful lot of people. That has to count for something, right?” Fenris looked at her like she’d just declared herself Arch Devine. Isabela spread her hands and gave a little shy tilt of her head. “Ok, so maybe I’m _not_ a blood mage. I was just hoping that if I got you angry enough you’d look at me like you were looking at Hawke. It’s _unbelievably_ sexy.”

“…Sexy?” said Fenris, his chain of thought clearly entirely derailed. Merril stifled a giggle. Maybe Merril should bring Isabela along the next time she spoke to the Keeper, see if she could have the same effect. Though hopefully not using the same method.

“Oh yes,” said Isabela. “It’s so _intense_. The way your eyes light up…mmm. Are you sure there’s no way I can get that look from you?”

Fenris’s mouth twitched, like he was trying not to smile. “I…I apologise, Isabela, but I find it hard to imagine myself ever being quite _that_ angry at you. Hawke seems to have a particular talent for infuriating me, and you…do not.”

“Well now I feel all _special_ ,” said Hawke.

Isabela made a face of exaggerated sorrow. “Not even a little bit? What if I made fun of your accent?”

“I don’t have an accent,” he said.

“I dahn’t have an ackZENT,” repeated Isabela.

Merril laughed. “You sound just like him!”

He glared at her.

“See, even Merril gets a look,” said Isabela mournfully. “It’s not fair.” Really, Merril didn’t understand the appeal at all. Fenris was nice enough looking if you liked that sort of thing, but what was sexy about being _angry_?

Fenris gave a sigh that verged on being a short laugh. “How do you feel about exasperated looks?” he asked. “Because I think I could manage one of those.”

Isabela grinned. “It’s a start.”


	3. Greed

Isabela looked at her cards. They were terrible. This is what happened when she let other people deal.

She pulled her chair closer to Fenris and blew gently on his face, so that his eyes were briefly visible from underneath the shaggy mane of his fringe. “Your hair is getting awfully long. You should cut it, then people could see how pretty your eyes are.”

“That is hardly my first priority,” he said.

“Perhaps foes would be transfixed by your beauty in battle,” she replied.

Fenris gave a short laugh. He really _was_ pretty. He had a nice laugh, too.

Isabela turned to the other players. “What do you think, should we get Fenris to cut his hair?”

“Everyone knows the ladies like a man with long hair,” said Varric. “He should grow it out.”

Hawke looked up from her cards to give Isabela a smile, then her eyes turned to Fenris with an almost predatory gleam. She was _fun_ to team up with. Hawke tilted her head. “Perhaps we should shave it all off. Or only one side. Or we could give him braids, like a Qunari. It’s the right colour.”

“I’d rather you didn’t,” said Fenris levelly. “And don’t think I haven’t realised you’re just leaning over to get a good look at my cards, Isabela.” Pretty _and_ clever. More of a sense of humour than you’d expect, as well. It really was a pity he wouldn’t sleep with her. At least he didn’t seem to mind her trying.

Isabela leaned over further. “I can’t be transfixed by your beauty and want to be near you?”

“You want to be _near_ everyone.” He shifted to make it harder for her to look at what was in his hand.

“That’s not true,” she pouted. “I’m sure there’s at least… _two_ people in this bar I’ve never tried to seduce.”

“You’ve never tried to seduce _me_ ,” said Hawke. “Am I not as pretty as Fenris?” She almost sounded offended. Varric didn’t say anything but just smiled to himself. _That_ had been an interesting conversation.

Isabela smiled at the young woman opposite her. “Hawke you are _gorgeous_. Every time I look into those pretty brown eyes I get chills.” Sure, sometimes those chills were because Hawke was genuinely scary, but that just added to the appeal. “Have I really never tried to sleep with you? I can’t see why not.” They’d certainly flirted enough, and Isabela _liked_ Hawke. Sex was always nicer when you liked the person. Isabela gave her a cheerful leer. “Well then…how about it?”

Hawke blinked, then gave a knowing smile. “Cards that bad huh?”

And _this_ was why Isabela had never slept with her. Hawke always seemed to shy away from flirtation when things got too intense, it made Isabela suspect her of not really being interested. But perhaps that was just the way she was, Hawke could be surprisingly touchy. Maybe it was worth giving her a push and seeing where things went.

Isabela shrugged. “I’ve had worse. Better than three fives and a pair of twos, anyway.” Fenris tried to stifle a groan of annoyance. “But it doesn’t have to be now. How about tonight, Hawke? You, me, a variety of household implements…these fingers aren’t just good for picking locks, you know.” She waggled them suggestively.

Was Hawke _blushing_? How adorable! Just when Isabela least expected it Hawke would have these little flashes of vulnerability. She found them _fascinating_.

“You sure I’m not too complex for you?” she said, rallying admirably.

“Oh, I think I could unpick your box.”

Fenris coughed. “Do we have to be present for this?”

“Preferably,” purred Isabela.

Hawke laughed. “I think to unlock Fenris you’d be better off using a big rock and a chisel.”

“I thought your preferred approach to all problems was to set everything on fire,” said Fenris irritably.

“I could set _you_ …”

“Can we _please_ get back to playing cards?” asked Varric. “Honestly, you three, you make it hard for a man to cheat in peace.”

Later, Isabela sidled up to Fenris, before he had a chance to escape to his big empty mansion in Hightown.

“So, is there anything going on with you and Hawke?”

Fenris looked at her in surprise. “Between _me_ and Hawke? Don’t be ridiculous.”

Isabela raised an eyebrow at him. “Oh, I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. But be in denial if you like. I just didn’t want to step on your toes.” She’d already asked Merrill, who had gotten _very_ giggly and then reassured her that there was nothing like that going on.

“Well, thank you for asking, but no, you would not be stepping on my toes. I’d be more worried about your safety.” If he was bothered by her briefly switching her attentions from him to Hawke it didn’t show. Another thing to like about him.

“Oh Fenris, I didn’t know you cared.” Isabela clasped a hand to her bosom.

“I’d be worried about anyone’s safety. Did you know she uses _blood_ magic?”

Isabela rolled her eyes. “Can we _please_ have _one_ conversation that doesn’t revolve around blood magic?”

“Apparently not.” There was an awkward silence. “I do appreciate you asking,” he said, at last. “It’s good to know…that you would take my feelings into account in that way. To be honest I would not have expected it.”

“Fenris, despite popular opinion I’m not willing to have sex with just _anyone_ ,” she said. “And in case you hadn’t noticed I do actually like you.”

“Oh. Well, I…thankyou.”

“Sure I can’t persuade you to come along? I know Hawke likes you too, in her way.” A very strange expression passed over Fenris’s face. “Oooh, you were tempted, I can tell,” she said.

He frowned at her. “I think not,”

Isabela gave an exasperated sigh. “Fine. Well, I’ll just be off then. To have sex with Hawke.”

“I wish you all the best.” If he regretted the decision it didn’t show.

“I’ll give her your regards.” Isabela gave an exaggerated bow and turned to start walking up the street towards Hightown, a happy whistle on her lips and a swing in her step.


	4. Pride

Right, this was it.

May adjusted her robes and set her mind to exuding self confidence. She gave Bodahn her best noble-instructing-servant nod. “Let him in,” she said.

Fenris entered the sitting room with with a similar tense expression to the one he habitually wore at the Gallows, as if he half expected May to turn into an abomination and crush him beneath her feet. The thought had admittedly crossed her mind.

May gave her most welcoming smile. “Hello Fenris. Noone else is here yet. Please make yourself comfortable.”

“Ah,” he said, and sat down.

There was an awkward silence, punctuated only by the crackle of the fire.

“Hawke…” he said. “I…about last night. I’m sorry if I said anything to, uh…”

Oh he was sorry now, was he? “Think nothing of it,” she said. “You were dealing with an unpleasant situation, and needed someone to talk to. Anything else is just…” She made a dismissive gesture, shrugging off his rejection as if it had been nothing more than a misunderstanding between friends. She would be _damned_ if she let him see how much it had hurt to see him walk away. She’d wipe the memory from her own head if she could.

He looked at her in surprise. “That’s very thoughtful of you,” he said. “You were…a surprisingly good listener. I appreciate it.” Her traitorous heart gave a little cheer at this rare sign of approval. Why did he have this affect on her, it was maddening.

She resisted the urge to hug him and instead raised her eyebrows. “Fenris, as much as I enjoy mocking your pain, past a certain point it just feels redundant. Hadriana was a pustulant stain of a human being, if it were me I’d still be angry too.”

“If it were _you_ …yes, I imagine you’d have done the same thing, wouldn’t you?”

“In a heartbeat,” said May. “If you hadn’t have killed her I might have done it myself.”

He looked as if he might say something to that (the advice she probably should have given him, perhaps. Something about the sanctity of human life or such nonsense) but then thought better of it. His tense posture relaxed and he sat quietly, looking at May thoughtfully with a slight frown on his face. She turned to look at the fire but felt very aware of his gaze.

Much as she hated to admit it, May had been unfair to Fenris. For all that he seemed incapable of realising that Kirkwall was not the Tevinter Imperium, the way he’d been treated there was pretty horrifying. Until meeting Hadriana, until she’d actually seen him be treated as _stolen property_ , she hadn’t really grasped what it had meant for him to be a slave. She had used to enjoy baiting him about his hatred of mages, but now the whole situation made her feel queasy. It was no wonder he didn’t trust her, the wonder was that he was willing to talk to her at all. Why she’d thought it would be a a good idea for them to _sleep_ together…it was probably for the best that he’d said no.

Which is not to say a small part of her didn’t want to shout at him until one of them cried.

She surreptitiously looked over at Fenris. He was staring absently into the fire himself now, looking for all the world like he was at peace. Well, that was a first.

There had been a moment last night, after Fenris left, when May had had the shocking thought that perhaps pushing people away the more she cared about them _wasn’t_ the key to eternal happiness after all. It was far too late to salvage any sort of relationship with Fenris beyond comfortable acquaintance (and even that only if she was lucky), but he wasn’t the only person she cared about.

“Do you know if Isabela is coming?” she asked, casually.

“I assume so,” he said. “Didn’t you talk to her yourself?”

“Oh, you know,” said May. “Not for a while.” The last time May had seen Isabela she’d been walking through the Hightown Market with Merrill, and May had spent fifteen minutes pretending to shop for arrows until she’d been sure that they’d passed. Every time she talked to Isabela now she was haunted by the look of disappointment Isabela had worn at the idea that May might be bringing _feelings_ into their relationship, and May experienced a repeat of the the sick emptiness she’d felt inside when she’d forced herself to pretend that she was not.

Fenris frowned. There was a horrible irony to the fact that Fenris was the only person in Thedas who knew how she felt about Isabela, though May had no idea if he knew how she felt about _him_. But she and Fenris did seem to make a habit of baring their souls to each other about all the wrong things. He focused his eyes on a point somewhere on the floor near his feet. “I realise this isn’t any of my business,” he said. “But I know that she…”

“How’s your reading going?” she asked.

His eyes flashed in annoyance. He didn’t like talking about his points of weakness any more than May did. Which…probably meant she shouldn’t be needling him about it. This whole not-being horrible-to-people thing was definitely work in progress.

Bodahn knocked on the door and asked to let in some further guests.

“Aveline! Great to see you!” said May, with as much false cheer as she could muster.

Aveline looked at her like she’d sprouted fangs. Yes, definitely a work in progress.  


* * *

  
May eventually found Isabela at the docks, looking out at the ships.

“Would you like me to steal you one?” she asked.

Isabela laughed without turning. “I appreciate the thought, but if it was that easy I’d have done it already.”

May sat next to her on the crumbling stone sea wall, the dark waves of the bay lapping beneath their feet. It was a warm night, a dense cloud cover hid the stars and made the air sticky. She shifted close to Isabela anyway.

“You didn’t come to the meeting today.”

“I didn’t see the point.”

May felt the sting of guilt. She’d deliberately avoided bringing Isabela along with her on any jobs recently. “You missed a really _exciting_ discussion between Anders and Sebastian about the ethics of magic.”

“Sounds riveting.”

May kicked at the wall with her feet, and heard a few flecks of rock crumble off and splash into the sea below. “Also…I wanted to talk to you.”

“You could have fooled me,” said Isabela. She was _not_ making this easy.

May shifted closer still. “I’m here now aren’t I?”

Isabela gave a dramatic sigh. “Yes, I suppose you are,” she said. “But don’t think I haven’t noticed you ignoring me lately. And it’s not like I’ve done anything in particular worth being angry about, unless I was such a good lay that you’ve been pining over me ever since.”

It took every fibre of strength in May’s body not to deny it and say something cutting. Instead she just looked Isabela in the eye and said nothing. Isabela’s eyes widened, the whites shining in the light of the nearby torches. May took a deep breath and gave her best totally-not-heartbroken smile. “Something like that,” she said. “But it’s ok, I’m over it now, I was just being…silly. And I’d really like to stay your friend.”

“Always,” said Isabela, looking far more sincere than May was used to. She gave May a friendly pat on the shoulder. “And I’m sorry I didn’t realise you were feeling…silly. Hurting you was the last thing I wanted.”

“That’s not the way I remember it.”

Isabela grinned. “Speak for yourself,” she said. She leaned back against the wall and regarded May fondly. May felt herself smiling fondly back, and a weight lifted off her shoulders. She’d missed Isabela.

Isabela raised an eyebrow. “So did I _actually_ miss anything?” she said. “Apart from your admittedly charming company, of course.”

“Not really,” said May. “Things are pretty quiet at the moment. Varric had time to read us a bit of his latest book, it has wyverns in it.” May had enjoyed it despite herself. Somehow she’d ended up entrenched in all these people’s lives, and she didn’t hate it as much as she might have expected to. Part of her even wanted to try to take her role as de facto leader seriously and actually _do_ something with it, though she had no idea what.

“Oh, see, now I am sorry I didn’t come,” said Isabela. “Did he get to the bit with the sexy Qunari?”

May laughed. “No, Aveline stopped him. Merrill was very disappointed. But I thought you hated the Qunari.”

“I don’t mind the sexy ones,” said Isabela. “At least not in books.”

“Maybe Anders should get him to write a book about sexy mages,” said May. “I’m sure it would be more persuasive those pamphlets he keeps handing out.”

“Oh yes, everyone likes a sexy mage,” said Isabela. “They’re almost as good a sexy pirates.”

“Almost as good?”

Isabela shrugged. “What can I say? We’re just irresistible.”

A cool breeze wafted in across the water, laden with the smell of salt. May took a breath and smiled. “You are at that.”


	5. Sloth

It appeared to be start of a beautiful day in Kirkwall. The sun was up and shining brightly in a cloudless sky, and the streets of Hightown bustled with the sounds of Chantry sisters spreading the good word, happy dogs being walked, friends gossiping and children playing.

How Fenris hated them all, though not quite as much as he hated whoever it was that had decided to leave the curtains open. He glared, eyes narrowed, at the bright beam of sunlight burning its way across the bed and onto his face like a wall of fire. Perhaps if he thought dark enough thoughts at it the sun would give up and go away.

What had they been doing last night? He thought back hazily. They'd gone to visit Aveline and Donnic, and then Isabela had decided they needed to wash out the domesticity of the scene with some wine, and then there'd been an altercation with some Templars in the Hanged Man after Hawke insulted them…had there been something with a chicken? Fenris had vague and disturbing memories involving a chicken.

They’d evidently ended up at Hawke’s house again. Hawke’s _mansion_ , if he was to describe it accurately. Fenris hated the idea of being dependant on Hawke, and Isabela was loathe to even admit to anything approaching a _relationship_ , yet despite their mutual objections to the idea of moving in with Hawke they did seem to end up sleeping here an awful lot of the time. It was just so much more _comfortable_ here, his desire for independence was cold comfort compared to sharing a warm clean bed with two beautiful women.

It was only one beautiful woman right now. Hawke still managed to take up a huge portion of the bed, though it was very large and she was fairly small. She was sprawled across it sideways, her legs sticking out from under the tangled bed-coverings at unlikely looking angles and her head resting on Fenris’s belly. Isabela had clearly taken advantage of her superior tolerance for alcohol to make her escape while Fenris and Hawke were asleep.

“Hawke,” said Fenris gently, picking a feather out of her hair.

She groaned and rolled over onto the bed, elbowing him the stomach and leaving a thin line of drool. Now his stomach _and_ head hurt. Misery like this needed to be shared.

“ _Hawke_. Wake up.” He poked her in the side. She squished nicely.

“Nnnng…stoppit,” said Hawke blearily, and batted away his hand.

“We’re meeting Varric, remember?”

“Screw Varric,” said Hawke into the mattress.

“He’s a little short for my tastes. And Bianca might object.”

Hawke muttered something incoherent.

“What was that?”

Hawke twisted her head around to look at him. It didn’t look very comfortable. “I _said_ , you’re one to talk.” She glared at him. “This is all your fault. You shouldn’t have let me drink so much.”

“So I am to be your watcher now? If so there are a few things I might object to more strongly than your drinking.”

Hawke rolled her eyes. But she knew he had a point. At least he liked to think she did.

Fenris ran a hand across the smooth curves of her shoulders and along the small roundness of her ear. Hawke stared into space pensively, and then gave a dramatic sigh.

“I’m sorry Fenris, but I can’t do it. While you were asleep I was possessed by a sloth demon, which offered me eternal happiness as long as I lay in this bed.”

“Is that so?” said Fenris.

Hawke nodded with exaggerated sorrow, and then winced. “If I get out of bed the demon will become angry and I’ll turn into an abomination. Then you’d have to kill me, and you’d be even _later_ for meeting Varric.” She reached up to gently touch his cheek. “I’m so sorry, my love. You’ll have to go on without me.”

Fenris stared at her in surprise. Hawke raised her eyebrows at his expression, and then widened her eyes in embarrassment when she realised what she’d just called him.

Before they could continue the conversation, the door to Hawke’s bedroom was thrown open with a loud bang. Hawke and Fenris made identical grimaces of pain.

“Wake up sleepyheads!” cried Isabela cheerfully. “I’ve made breakfast!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies to anyone who hasn't read Blood Magic (the first story in this series) and finds the gap between this and the previous chapter jarring. I didn't realise how much time I'd skipped over until I'd already written something for all seven sins.


	6. Gluttony

“What is it?”

Isabela grinned at May with a mouthful of wonky teeth and proffered a plate of something round and steaming and covered in chopped vegetables. She was wearing one of May’s robes, now decorated with flour and scorch marks, but she was built on a larger scale and her breasts were making a spirited bid for freedom.

Isabela pushed the plate of whatever-it-was further towards May’s face. “It’s bread and cheese, Hawke.” she said. “I’m pretty sure you have that in Ferelden.” May loved Isabela dearly, but she was far more chipper than anyone had a right to be so early in the morning. (Was it still morning? It was still too early, regardless)

May sniffed at the sticky hot mess with some suspicion. “It smells like medicine. The bread and cheese in Ferelden isn’t so… bubbly. Or covered in green things. Are you sure you’re not trying to kill me?”

“Yes, Hawke, you got me. I spent an _hour_ in the kitchen, cooking you a traditional Rivaini breakfast and fighting off your maid, just so I could kill you. Because it’s not like I could have stabbed you in bed while you were asleep or anything.”

“Fighting off the maid?” asked Fenris, sitting up from where he lay on the bed, a slight hint of violence in his voice. He was still so adorably protective of Orana, though the more time passed the further she grew from the timid ex-slave she’d hired two years ago. Which was good, May didn’t like being around timid people, not unless she was _trying_ to scare them.

Isabela rolled her eyes. “She didn’t like me using the kitchen. And I hardly made any mess! Maybe she was worried I’d try to poison you as well. It’s like nobody _trusts_ me.”

“I wonder why,” said Fenris. Isabela stuck out her tongue.

May sighed dramatically. “ _Fine_ , give me some of this totally not poisoned bread and cheese,” she said. It actually didn’t look too bad, even if she found the idea of cucumber for breakfast a little disturbing.

Isabela smiled and tore off a piece, then held it just out of reach. May leaned forward to bite it, and Isabela pulled it slightly further away. May glared at her, blearily. “Give me my breakfast.”

“Oh so you want it now?” Isabela grinned. May reached forward her hand to grab it, but Isabela was faster. Damn rogues. She didn’t even spill any of the salad. While they were squabbling, Fenris reached across and grabbed one of the other…round bread things. He delicately balanced it on his fingers and took a bite.

“You sneaky breakfast thief!” said Isabela. “That’s cheating!”

“I learn from the best,” he said with a smile. He took another bite and chewed meditatively. “This is quite good. It reminds me a little of the food in Tevinter.” Still balancing the bread on his fingers, Fenris shifted forward to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Well, that would make sense, Tevinter is quite close…” While Isabela was distracted by these geographical thoughts, May clambered onto her knees and reached for the piece of bread in Isabela’s hand. Without taking her eyes off Fenris, Isabela neatly stepped sideways so that May was reaching into empty air. May made a sound of frustration and started to move off the bed.

Fenris placed his other hand on May’s shoulder. “I recall someone saying they were _unable_ to get out of bed.” His thumb dug into her back with a familiar pressure, great strength applied with careful gentleness.

May reached behind to grab Fenris’s hand and twisted it out of the way. “Food’s more important than demons,” she said.

“ _Demons_?” asked Isabela. “Well if it’s _that_ serious…” She leaned forward and put the piece of bread in May’s mouth. May bit down on her fingers, and Isabela pulled away, laughing, scattering a trail of cheesy vegetables. May smiled toothily then chewed on her prize. Melted cheese on bread with cucumber and…mint? It _was_ pretty good, even if the combination of flavours was unexpected. She was going to have to introduce Fenris and Isabela to a good old fashioned Ferelden breakfast one of these days, these northern countries had far too much of an unhealthy obsession with fresh vegetables.

“Delicious!” declared May. “More bread, pirate wench.”

“I demand payment, first,” said Isabela, and leaned forward to kiss May briefly on the mouth. May pulled her down into a deeper kiss and bit her lower lip gently. Isabela made a happy sound and leaned forward. May could feel Fenris’s hand shift down onto her back and then he kissed her shoulder.

Isabela pulled back slightly, still standing in front of May. “You too, pretty boy,” she said to Fenris, though there was much less of a commanding tone to her voice. “Pay up, or give me back my breakfast.”

There was a pause. Isabela was looking at Fenris with a small smile, and May could imagine him considering her with that intense green gaze of his. For all that Fenris had accepted the part Isabela played in May’s life, he still seemed a little uneasy whenever the three of them were together. He was still a little uneasy with _any_ sort of physical intimacy, which May tried to accept with as much grace as she capable of. For her part Isabela seemed to accept that the events of the last few years had damaged the friendship she and Fenris had started to share. In a perfect world there would be no awkwardness between any of them, but they were all deeply imperfect people.

May could feel Fenris leaning his head on her shoulder. “If you insist,” he said with a smile in his voice, his breath soft against May’s skin. He stood up to kiss Isabela with single minded determination and evident enthusiasm. May supposed she should probably be jealous, but it filled her with delight to see the two people she loved most in the world so happy together.

There was that word again. _Loved_. Well, it might be too scary to say out loud, but she could at least admit to it in her head.

After watching them for a little while May turned her head and saw that Isabela was still holding the plate of breakfast balanced in her left hand.

Judging her moment carefully, May made a grab for the plate, seizing it with both hands. Isabela made a sound of surprise and tried to rescue her creation, but while she was stronger than May in general she was at a disadvantage here. Using the full force of both arms and the loving embrace of gravity, May manage to liberate the plate and make an awkward but triumphant landing on the side of the bed.

Unfortunately, while the bread mostly stayed put not all of the vegetables came with it. A shower of sticky cheesy salad flew up into the air and then rained down on the the three of them. Unperturbed, May rolled on to her stomach, grabbed the top piece of bread and stuffed of it as much as she could into her mouth.

“You ruined it!” said Isabela.

“Itsh shtill delishush,” said May, through a mouthful of bread and congealing cheese.

“Of course it is,” said Isabela. “But I’m not having all that chopping go to waste.” She leaned across May and started picking the mess off the sheets and back onto the plate.

“That’s disgusting,” said Fenris, amused.

“Hush, you, I’ve seen mould in your kitchen that could take on an ogre.”

“I have a kitchen?”

Later, the three of them lay in a sticky heap in the bed, the sheets still smelling faintly of mint and cheese. “So I suppose you’re going to say we should get up and get to our appointment with Varric,” said May.

Fenris shrugged. “He’s probably given up on us,” he said. “It must be approaching noon by now.”

Isabela sat up and stretched her arms. “Good point,” she said. “So what are the two of you making me for lunch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The breakfast Isabela cooked is loosely based on Mankoushe or Lebanese pizza. I couldn't figure out if it was eaten back in the sorts of time periods Dragon Age is based on, and it's possible my description is way off. I would have eaten some for research but I'm intolerant of dairy, all the cheese eating in this chapter is blatant wish fulfillment :)


	7. Envy

When the battle was over, and it became clear that not only had they escaped immediate slaughter, but that the Templars were _letting them go_ , May had run up to Isabela and given her a passionate kiss.

She’d then gone and done the same thing to Fenris, Merril, Sebastian, Varric, Aveline, and some hapless mage who’d followed them out of the Gallows. Isabela couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen May so happy. She got the feeling that May had half expected everyone to decide to run away or side with Meredith, and the joy of being proven wrong had overcome her usual prickly nature. She’d even said something genuinely kind to Sebastian about Elthina being proud of him.

But the majority of May’s affection was directed at Fenris. If anyone could have been expected to think that murdering every mage in Kirkwall was not only reasonable but necessary, it was him, and May kept staring at him like he might vanish at any moment. The two of them had holed up in one of the corners of the warehouse to talk about their _feelings_ , every now and then Isabela would hear fragments of heartfelt declarations about _affection_ and _staying by your side forever_.

It was enough to make you sick.

May had looked at _her_ like that once, when she’d come back with that damned book. But Isabela had refused to admit that May had had much to do with her decision, and then she’d run away again. For three years. Hard to expect anyone to want to talk to you about _forever_ after that.

And oh look, now they’d started kissing. Isabela decided to stop torturing herself and go talk to Aveline.

The guard captain was in her element here, giving orders and organising boring things like supplies and watch schedules. For the moment they were holed up in an abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the docks, but this could only be a temporary solution, and it wasn’t clear where they were going next, or if there even was a “they” any more. Things were a mess.

“How’s it going, big girl?” asked Isabela, sitting down on a box of nug harnesses or whatever it was that used to be stored here.

Aveline gave a pained smile. “Not too bad, considering. I mean, we could be dead, right?”

Isabela laughed. “That’s certainly one way to look at it.”

Aveline sighed. “Hawke never makes things easy does she? I’ve got Varric rounding up some supplies, and I’ve tried to organise the guard so that no patrols pass near here, but it was hard enough keeping the Templars off our back when it was just a few apostates hanging around Hawke, now she’s made herself a _symbol of mage freedom_. We’ll be lucky if the Chantry doesn’t decide to annul the whole city. I hope Hawke has more of a plan for the future than canoodling in dark corners and causing trouble.”

Hawke had a knack for getting herself (and to a lesser extent, everyone else) out of trouble, but maybe she had bitten off more than she could chew this time. “Do you think she should leave Kirkwall?”

“She’s going to have to. It’s just not safe for her here.”

“But it is for you?”

Aveline gave a stoic little shrug and Isabela wanted to hug her. “I have responsibilities here. And I should be alright, Meredith’s orders were…unreliable enough that I think I can be forgiven for following Hawke, though I may have to step down as guard captain for a while.” Good old Aveline. Kirkwall would be back on it’s feet in no time. Aveline looked at Isabela. “What about you?”

“Oh, nobody cares enough about me to try very hard to kill me,” she said. “Not since Hawke took care of Castillion and the Arishok, anyway. I’m thinking of moving on, though. I’ll miss you all, but seven years is a long time to stay in one place, and Kirkwall’s just no _fun_ any more.”

“You’re not going with Hawke?” asked Aveline with surprise.

Isabela made what she hoped was a convincingly ambivalent wave of her hand. “Probably not. I’m getting a bit old for the whole running-and-hiding fugitive-of-justice thing.”

Aveline frowned. “Have you told her that?”

“Not as such,” said Isabela. “But I doubt she’ll mind. I’d just be in the way.” Dammit, she’d been trying to _avoid_ thinking about this. Things had been…comfortable between the three of them. She was going to miss what she’d shared with May and Fenris more than she wanted to admit to herself. But it was one thing to stumble over to Hightown whenever the Hanged Man got too lonely, and another to tag along like a particularly unreliable third wheel now that they were on the run from the Chantry. The sensible thing to do was be happy for her…friends, and move on.

Aveline stared at her in disbelief. “Andraste’s breath woman, are you really that stupid?”

“What do you…hey!” cried Isabela in protest, as she found herself being dragged by the arm across the room.

After a few steps Isabela found herself staring down at May, who was kneeling with Merrill in front of the escaped mage from the Gallows. Fenris was standing nearby looking awkward.

“Hey. You. Hawke.” said Aveline.

“What?” asked May sharply. “You _can_ see the woman bleeding to death in front of you, yes?” She groaned as she stood up. “I’m really beginning to regret killing Anders, this healing business is a pain.”

Aveline looked down at the mage and her expression visibly wavered. The woman had a large stab wound in her side and was sitting in a slowly expanding pool of blood.

“She’s not going to _die_ ,” said Merril to May, chidingly. She smiled at the mage. “It’s just a bit of a nasty scratch, I’ll soon have it fixed right as rain. I did ask Hawke to help but I can do it on my own, really.”

“Right,” said Aveline. She stood a little straighter and looked May in the eye. “Hawke. Tell Isabela how you feel about her.”

May raised her eyebrows at Aveline. She then looked Isabela up and down, her eyes pointedly dawdling along Isabela’s various landmarks. “I think she feels very nice,” she said with a smirk. “Would you like me to demonstrate?”

Aveline grimaced. “That won’t be necessary. I was just trying to…”

“No, no, you did ask.” May sidled up to Isabela and ran a hand up her chest. “Isabela,” she said. “Where you would _like_ me to feel you?”

Aveline made a sound of exasperation and let go of Isabela’s arm. “You know what, never mind. Work it out amongst yourselves.” She turned around, face red, and stomped back to her lists.

May snickered.

Isabela put her hand on May’s. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Absolutely,” said May. Isabela pulled her to a more isolated part of the warehouse. Unfortunately, it wasn’t a very _large_ warehouse, so it was likely that everyone would still be able to hear what she and May was saying if they decided to listen. Ah well, it’s not like they didn’t have plenty of blackmail material on her already anyway.

Isabela took a deep breath. “Look, May. You know that feelings aren’t really my thing. But I just wanted to say that I…that I’m really glad I met you. Whatever happens, and whether or not we ever see each other again, I’ll always care about you. I want you to know that.”

May’s face lit up with one of her beautiful smiles. “Thank you,” she said. “Isabela, I hope you know that I…” She stopped. The smile slowly faded. “Wait, what do you mean, _whatever happens_?” Her eyes widened. “Were you thinking of _leaving_? **_Again_ **?”****

“Not…necessarily,” said Isabela. “I can hang around if you like. I just thought, you know, that you and Fenris might want to be…Ow!” May had punched her in the shoulder. Being a mage, she had the upper body strength of an eleven year old girl with a hangover, but it still hurt.

“You…you _idiot_. Of _course_ I want you to hang around. I _need_ you. I would sacrifice every person in this room if I had to to keep you with me. ”

“Hey!”

“Every person in this room except Fenris. And even then I’d have to think about it.” Isabela could hear Fenris muttering under his breath about whether or not it was too late to throw in his lot with the templars. “Andraste’s ass, Isabela, what do you want from me, a marriage proposal? I’ve been in love with you for _seven years_. Are you of all people telling me that it’s impossible that I could care about two people the same time?”

“Oh,” said Isabela. “Um. No?”

Fenris snorted. He’d stopped even pretending not to be listening, but was still standing a little distance away. Isabela could feel her face burning.

“Oh like you’re any better,” she said to him. “Maybe I was just worried you’d assert your manly dominance if I got between you and your woman.”

“And here I thought you were _both_ my women,” he said. “But it seems I am superfluous.” Isabela sometimes got the feeling he was jealous of the easy friendship Isabela and May shared, he never seemed to realise how much they both cared about him. Not that Isabela had any idea what _that_ was like.

“You could never be superfluous, Fenris,” said Isabela with affection. “Where else would we find someone with such a magnificent…set of tattoos.” She grinned at him.

Fenris smiled at this, and walked the few steps between them.“Well then, Isabela, know that you are not superfluous either. Without you, May and I…”

“Would never again find such a magnificent set of breasts?”

“Would probably kill each other. But that too. I would not gladly part from you.”

And from there things descended into a truly _disgusting_ display of feelings and emotions, there may even have been multiple uses of the ‘l’ word. Possibly even from Isabela herself. But these were chaotic times, and sometimes even she could not resist the temptation.


End file.
